


Cracks in the Foundation

by BrushDog



Series: The House We Built [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: A LOT of Angst, Angst, M/M, canonical character deaths, good intentions and bad circumstances, sad old dads have an explosive break up, vaguely canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 18:18:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12753615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrushDog/pseuds/BrushDog
Summary: Gerard Lacroix is dead. In the wake of his assassination at the hands of an unknown assailant, Gabriel Reyes finds himself digging deeper and deeper into the underbelly of a conspiracy that threatens the very foundation of the legacy he's built. The only question is, can he get to the bottom of it all before his enemies get the better of him? And will there be anyone left to stand at his side when he does?





	Cracks in the Foundation

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my betas [tatch](http://archiveofourown.org/users/tatch/pseuds/tatch) and [volokh](http://sparrowgenjivevo.tumblr.com/). Art for this piece is by the lovely [nikorys!](http://nikorys.tumblr.com/)

The stench followed Gabriel from Cairo. Even in the filtered air of his office in Geneva it still lingered on the edge of his breath. The sickly sweet tang of death rested heavy on his tongue.

If he closed his eyes he could still hear the buzz of the flies on the air, bloated black bodies zipping about through the broken window of the four-star hotel room where they'd put up Gerard and Amelie for a week of recuperation following her rescue mission.

The details of the investigation ran through his mind like a litany, a hymn to some unknown god. Two bullets to the head, one to the heart. No sign of struggle, no weapon left on the premises, the deadbolt on the door locked from the inside. No glass on the floor, the window broken from the inside out. Amelie Lacroix was nowhere to be found.

Official reports recorded it as an unknown assailant, one of Talon's agents. Those reports didn't sit well with Gabriel. He didn't want to entertain the thought that Amelie might be a sleeper agent, that her kidnapping by Talon might have had ulterior motives, that Talon was even capable of a strike with that level of sophistication.

Gabriel's eyes opened, staring down at the array of files scattered across his desk. He curled his hands on the cold metal edge of the glass display.

It was Overwatch's job to go toe to toe with terrorists and insurgents. The sort of bad guys who made for good PR, Jack liked to say. It was Blackwatch's job to root those bad guys out, to get involved when the bad guys started looking like good guys from the outside.

Talon was one of those. The group had only started to emerge over the past few years, usually as a footnote on some sort of larger scale conflict. Gerard had been on a long term intelligence project, tracking down leads, trying to pin down exactly who it was that sat on the group's mysterious council, trying to thwart their involvement in spurring strife across the globe.

He'd been instrumental in shutting down several of their attempts in the past year, alerting Gabriel and Jack to hotbeds of activities with enough time for Jack's brand of in your face diplomacy to work its magic.

Gerard had been a thorn in Talon's side, one that they'd cleanly and efficiently removed.

Gabriel frowned at the thought, an uncomfortable cold creeping at the edges of his spine. There'd been groups that had tried to strike back at Overwatch, at Blackwatch before, but none had ever been so successful.

His gaze tracked slowly up to the headlines scrolling across the top of his desk's display unit.

The media had been on the story as fast as the maggots chewing Gerard's decaying flesh. Someone had broken protocol. Someone who wanted the world to know a top ranking official like Gerard Lacroix had been brought down.

It chased hot on the heels of the debacle that had been the end of the Shimada operation in Tokyo. Protocol snapped there too, someone cluing the local authorities into the fact that Blackwatch was carving away at the criminal underbelly of Japan without so much as a nod to Prime Minister Ito's cabinet.

Gabriel's jaw worked at the sour taste that memory left on his tongue. Petras had chewed him and Jack out for that one. They'd been forced to make concessions, a temporary suspension of Blackwatch operations until the Security Council could have their say in the matter. A bunch of bureaucratic bullshit in Gabriel's opinion, but that was Jack's area of expertise. He could soothe the Prime Minister's wounded pride, offer the right dose of charisma and appeal to subservience to get them out of hot water.

For Gabriel, the thought of two protocol breaches in swift succession were the only thoughts spinning in his mind, leaving an unseen tension running hot over his shoulders, drawing his lips tight over his teeth with a sucking breath.

There'd been little trace of Talon in the intelligence they'd mustered up from the Shimada raids. Not that there'd be any sort of threat if they were involved. Though cut short, the Shimada operation was overwhelmingly a success, guaranteeing that the group wouldn't be doing much of anything but licking its wounds for a long time now.

Yet tenuous as it was, the connection seemed to stick in Gabriel's mind, a thread that might help him unravel the whole mess of this Talon business, that might give him a chance to cut back as deep as they'd hit him.

He glanced back to the files, to the last intelligence drop that Gerard had been working for him. An omnic extremist group operating around the London metropolitan area. One of Gerard's sources had intercepted a transmission four days ago, the encrypted sort of transmission that omnics preferred when speaking among their ranks. Blackwatch's decryption unit just broke the cipher this morning, the transcription of the message sitting front and center on Gabriel's desk.

A message between the head of the so-called 'Null Sector,' and one of the top suspects for Talon's inner council, an omnic crime-lord named Maximilien operating out of Monaco.

Gabriel frowned at the message. He'd read it this morning, reviewed it twice already. Here was an opportunity, a chance to strike back, make use of Gerard's parting gift and strike a blow to Talon all at once. He'd risk more censure, more of a shit fest for Jack to clean up, but he knew this window wouldn't last. He had to act, had to move, had to do something to unravel this web before it closed tight around them.

With a tap of his fingers, he opened the communications panel, quickly penning a letter to Jesse McCree. The message sent, he sat with a heavy thud, his hands flying across the panels to pulling up passport records, hypertrain reservations, the works.

When the door to his office slid open a few minutes later, Jesse's frame backlit by the birght halogens in the hallway, a plan was already coalescing in Gabriel's mind.

"You need something, boss?" Jesse asked, striding into the room at Gabriel's quick gesture, the door sliding shut behind him.

"Yeah," Gabriel answered. He pushed himself up to stand, flicking his wrist on the display to toss the open documents over in Jesse's direction. "How do you feel about taking a little vacation?"

\---

Gabriel wasn't very fond of his service uniform. He'd tolerated the requirement in his military days, reluctantly agreed to it on the few rare occasions when it had been required throughout the Crisis, but in his time as the head of Blackwatch, the only occasions where it made its way out of the closet tended to be all kinds of unpleasant.

This time was no exception. The operation against Null Sector had been an overwhelming success, a clear victory by Jack's ragtag little strike team and as peaceful a resolution as anyone could hope for. Loss of civilian life had been minimal, their hostages were recovered, and based on what the media had to say about it, London was already well on its way to recovery.

Yet here he sat, crowded into a packed room, seated at attention in a stiff, uncomfortable chair. Just beyond him sat the inquiry panel: British Prime Minister Solanke, Director Petras, Under-Secretary General Adawe, as well as representatives from the Security Council member nations. To his back was the public and the sort of media hounds he'd expect to see at an event like this.

Just the feeling of their eyes on him set Gabriel on edge, his jaw clenched as he kept his eyes resolutely fixed forward, trained on Jack, trying to let the way he danced around apologizing for Overwatch's involvement in the whole mess set his mind at ease.

"With all due respect, sir," Jack's voice rang clear across the room, "The men and women I had on the ground were saving people's lives."

"On whose authority, Strike Commander?" Petras quipped back. His eyes narrowed, assessing Jack's posture with a steely gaze. "Your men and women landed without clearance, conducted an operation on foreign soil with no authorization from this governing body or the government of the member nation in question."

"It was an executive decision, made on my authority as Strike Commander," Jack said evenly. "Article 4 Section 2.a of the Overwatch charter grants the Strike Commander the authority--"

"--To act on his or her own discretion in a situation where reasonable intelligence indicates catastrophic loss of life is imminent," Adawe cut in, casting a sideways glance to where Petras sat beside her before fixing her attention back on Jack. "What I'm sure the director means to ask, Jack, is if you're invoking Article Four, we'd certainly like to see your intelligence."

"I'd love to share it with you, Gabrielle," Jack replied, offering a halfhearted grin in her direction. "But I don't think all members of this panel are cleared for that discussion."

"You're talking about Blackwatch intelligence, aren't you?" Petras said, hands folded tightly in front of him as his dark gaze slid over to where Gabriel was seated. "We've heard from credible sources that Blackwatch boots were on the ground prior to your engagement. Though I was under the impression that their operations were suspended at this time. Do you care to clarify, Strike Commander?"

Gabriel stilled, the hairs at the back of his neck rising on end. No one should have known about Jesse's little trip to London. No one except for Jack, Ana, and the members of the strike team. They'd fudged the official reports, cleared all mention of Blackwatch operating outside the bounds of their suspension, but someone knew. Gabriel's gut roiled, his jaw clenching as he strained to keep his expression neutral, impassive, but it was Jack under inquiry, not him.

Jack, whose shoulders were pinned tight and poised, the perfect picture of a model subordinate, a true blue hero who only wanted to do what was right for the innocent people of the world.

Jack cleared his throat, lifting his chin a fraction as Petras's gaze slid back to watch him.

"Not all members of this panel are cleared for that discussion, Director," he said, an icy tone slipping into his voice. "I'd be happy to discuss the matter with you during the confidential inquiry following this one."

"See to it that you do," Petras said, primly, reaching out to sort through the pages of notes spread out before him.

The topic diverged from there, the conversation dragging back and forth over the information they'd already covered in the now two-hour long session before Adawe finally took the initiative to call for an end to it all.

"We'll start the confidential inquiry in thirty," she declared, her gaze sweeping over the press box before it settled down at where Jack, Gabriel, and the rest of Overwatch's representatives sat before her. "I'll see you there."

An excited murmur quickly rose over the room, buzzing like the drone of flies in Gabriel's ears. He scowled, shaking his head, wishing they'd just clear the press and public out of the way already.

"Well, that wasn't half as bad as it could have been," Ana murmured to his side, keeping her voice low enough to not be heard over the din.

"Speak for yourself," Gabriel said shifting to stretch the stiffness from his shoulders. "Some days I think I'd take torture over this."

Ana gave a quiet snort, shooting him a sidelong glance. "You're lucky that no one heard that, Gabriel."

"That's why you guys keep me away from the mic, isn't it?" Gabriel quipped back, shrugging expressively.

"Did no one ever tell you discretion is the better part of valor," she asked, but the edge to her voice wasn't quite as sharp as usual.

He'd already gotten an earful from her following Jesse's return to Headquarters, then another one when he'd accidentally found his way into Jack's office while she was upbraiding him for the decision to dispatch the strike team against Director Petras's orders.

Ana Amari wasn't one to stand on formality, but she knew just as well as he did that there was something building, something more than happenstance that was lending itself to the growing public dissent with Overwatch's operations. The question was just whether he'd be able to find it in time to give her and Jack something actionable, an enemy they could set their sights on, someone to take down and put things to rights.

"Gabe's perfectly discreet, Ana," Jack spoke up as he approached, breaking the silence of Gabriel's thoughts. "Just only when he wants to be."

"Yes, well, sometimes I do hope you'll consider expanding that criteria," Ana said with a shake of her head.

"I'll keep that in mind, Captain," Gabriel said, his attention quickly fixing on Jack.

After all their years together, he still couldn't get used to the strange sort of glow Jack Morrison always had about him after hours spent in front of the cameras. Even with a formal inquiry like this, even though any other man would feel like he was being thrown to the wolves, Jack seemed to flourish, a subtle sort of vitality rushing through his bright blue eyes.

It was infectious enough, but for some reason today it only seemed to feed the chilly touch making itself at home between Gabriel's ribs, the heavy weight sitting hard in his gut.

That didn't escape Jack's notice. His blue eyes swept over Gabriel's posture once before lifting back up to meet his gaze with a warming softness.

"Ana, do you think you can hold things down here while Gabe and I step out for some air?" he asked, turning to look to Ana in askance.

"I don't think there's much to hold down, Jack," Ana said, nodding towards the quickly emptying room. "But if you need some time alone, I won't send any of the hounds after you."

"Thank you," Jack said to her with a brief smile. "I appreciate it."

"Good to know you've got our backs," Gabriel added, pushing himself up to to follow after Jack as he made his way towards the exit at the side of the room.

The door led them out into a small side hallway, blissfully unoccupied at the moment, and protected from the teeming mass of the press and public by two security guards stationed at its end. Gabriel breathed a quiet sigh of relief, grateful for the chance to have some relative privacy in all this mess.

"You've got something on your mind," Jack prompted him after a moment, his arms crossed loosely over his chest, relaxed but alert.

Gabriel looked up to him then back down the hallway, assessing the situation for a moment before he spoke, his voice still pitched low.

"I thought we agreed to leave Jesse out of this whole mess."

"I left him out," Jack replied, one eyebrow lifted in question. "You saw the report when I submitted it."

"I saw it," Gabriel answered, his gaze shifting off to the side, watching the press milling about down the hallway, an uneasy weight refusing to settle over his shoulders. "But you heard what Petras said."

Jack turned, watching him. Gabriel could feel those bright blue eyes on him, he knew the line they were tracking across his jaw, the tension of his posture, the way that Jack knew every one of his tells. A moment later Jack let out a soft breath, reaching up to clap a hand against Gabriel's shoulder with a reassuring squeeze.

"He's jumping at shadows, Gabe," Jack said, letting his hand drop after a moment. "You know he doesn't like you."

"I think this might be more than shadows, Jack," Gabriel said, unease thick on his tongue.

Jack was still watching him. Reluctantly Gabriel turned to meet his gaze, his dark eyes narrowed as he saw the worry writ in the subtle crease of Jack's brows, in the thin line of his lips pressed tight together.

He'd never told Jack about the thread he'd found, about the pieces that tied Null Sector, the Shimadas, and Gerard's death all together in a net set to draw tight around them. He knew Jack trusted him, but a sudden pang of worry struck that the heat Overwatch was taking might be wearing that trust thin.

"We'll talk about it later," Gabriel said in quiet concession, wanting to soothe that worry from Jack's expression, but knowing that he couldn't do it here or now. "I promise."

"All right," Jack offered a clipped nod in return. His gaze flicked up as Gabriel heard the familiar footsteps of Jack's secretary making his way down the hall.

Gabriel let out a rough sigh, turning to catch the young man's figure out of the corner. "Here I thought Ana had our backs."

"There's only so much she can do," Jack said, shrugging slightly as he clasped Gabriel's shoulder in his hand once more. "I'm holding you to your word. We'll talk later." With that he turned to intercept his oncoming secretary. The two of them spoke in hushed tones for a moment before Jack looked back up, gesturing for Gabriel to follow as he made his way back to the briefing room. Gabriel turned, his gaze fixed on Jack's back. The silent unease still gnawed at him, still raged in his mind. He bit it back, steeling himself, and followed after.

\---

There was red at the edges of Gabriel's vision as he rushed through the corridors of headquarters. In his mind there was a clock ticking down with every step he took forward, with every angry breath that he let hiss through his teeth. The warning had come from Ana, not Jack, a quick hallway conversation in hushed tones, warning him to move quickly if he wanted to prevent the inevitable.

There was only one way out of it, the solution snapping into place instantly in Gabriel's mind. He didn't have time to think it over, no time to second guess. He had to trust his instincts.

His hand slammed against the panel to the side of Jesse's dorm room, the door sliding open with an angry hiss.

Jesse was waiting there, sitting uneasy at the edge of his bed, a lumpy duffle bag waiting on his side with what Gabriel assumed from a cursory sweep of the room was the majority of Jesse's belongings. Jesse's head snapped up, a question on his lips faster than Gabriel could cut it off.

"Hey boss, I got the message. Packed everything up right good, what did you want me to--"

Gabriel silenced him with a rough gesture, jerking his thumb towards the door behind him.

"No questions," he said. "Get up and follow me, kid."

Jesse hesitated, held still for a moment that measured itself by the hammering pulse of Gabriel's heart in his throat. He could see the uncertainty, could see the doubt in Jesse's eyes. It was so much that he nearly heaved a sigh of relief when Jesse pushed himself up off the bed, slinging the duffle over his shoulder.

"Lead the way, boss."

Gabriel took them on a twisting path through the bowels of headquarters. Long years of experience left him with a second sense for which hallways would be occupied at this time of night, the fastest way they could escape without arousing suspicion. Jesse followed at his back, silent until Gabriel led him to a lesser-used garage on the ground level, tapping the access panel to pull the door open into the cold night air beyond.

He turned back to Jesse, jerking his chin over at one of the single rider hovercars parked nearest the door.

"Take that one. You'll need to ditch it if you don't want them tracking you. You should know how to make yourself disappear after that, cowboy."

Jesse's eyes followed his, moving back and forth between the vehicle, the open door, and Gabriel's imposing figure. The realization spread across his features like wildfire, razing the comfort and belonging that Jesse'd built here over the years to a wasteland of ash. His jaw set, throat bobbing as he looked straight at Gabriel.

"You're asking me to go."

"I'm telling you," Gabriel said, trying to school the heat from his voice, the anger still searing the back of his throat. "Security Council just made their decision on London. They know I'd mobilized. They know you were there, and they're want to court martial for it. Unless you're feeling like max security solitary is where you want to be, you'd better be gone before the sun rises."

The fire caught in Jesse's eyes in an instant, that vulnerable abandonment giving way to a flush of anger and grit teeth.

"What the hell, boss? I thought you said we covered that shit up!"

"We did. Someone let it slip," Gabriel snapped back, urgency warring against his better judgement. Jesse knew about the thread, about the threat that loomed over their heads. Gabriel knew he could trust Jesse with at least that much, that there was no way his best agent was the one selling him out. The Security Council's decisions seemed to have all but confirmed that, in the worst sort of way.

"Son of a bitch," Jesse spat between his teeth. He jerked his gaze to the side, to the hovercar and the rough pavement of the access road beyond. He held in silence, hands clenching and unclenching against the strap of the duffle at his shoulder. Gabriel knew the look, knew the thoughts that raced through Jesse's mind. He'd already worn them to dust on his way to Jesse's room. He knew it was just a matter of time before Jesse arrived at the same conclusion.

"So you're saying I can't help you none here," Jesse said with heavy certainty.

"Got it in one, cowboy," Gabriel confirmed. He found some calm in knowing he and Jesse were standing at the same point now.

"Figured," Jesse said with an unsteady exhale. He lifted his chin, defiance hot in his dark eyes as he looked up to Gabriel through the dim light of the garage. "You're gonna give 'em hell, aren't you?"

Gabriel snorted, offering a short nod in reply. "No one comes for my men without paying the price," he said, danger sharp on every word. "You'd better do the same."

"Oh you'd best believe I will," Jesse grinned back at him, a violent smile at the edge of his lips.

"Don't forget what I taught you," Gabriel said, clapping a hand to Jesse's shoulder, squeezing hard in a final gesture of farewell. "Keep yourself alive out there, Jesse."

"Won't forget," Jesse nodded, reaching up to close his hand over Gabriel's in a rare gesture of intimacy. "I'll make you proud, Gabe."

He turned, stepping out to the hovercar, and moments later he was gone, the lights vanishing over the open road and around the curve of the dark mountain passes beyond.

Gabriel stood in a silent vigil, the fire of anger in his mind slowly quelling to a smoldering remain, burning just as hot, held deep in his chest. This was another strike, another blow against him. It was no secret that Jesse was at the top of Blackwatch's ranks, that Gabriel looked on the man as a son to him, having dragged him from the New Mexico dust and dirty of Deadlock gang into a soldier, a man with a chance in this world. Whoever it was that was working against them had just taken that away, snuffed it out into darkness.

Gabriel would make them pay, he'd root them out, drag them to light, and exact his revenge.

The afterimage had nearly faded from his eyes when he heard the hiss of the garage door behind him, familiar footsteps tracking across the oil stained concrete floors.

"The Security Council's not going to be happy with you for this, Gabe," Jack said, his voice unnaturally even, the kind of tone he usually reserved for delivering notices on disciplinary action.

"Tell me something new, Jack," Gabriel said, matching the tone with quiet intensity.

He turned, searching the dim light of the garage to find Jack watching him. He was dressed down, wearing the ratty jeans and one SEP t-shirt that were a staple of his early mornings and weekends. His arms crossed tightly over his chest, hands loosely clenched about his biceps. It was a guarded stance, once Gabriel rarely saw outside the privacy of their shared quarters.

It should have struck him, should have softened the edge of his anger, but it wasn't much compared to the way Jesse'd looked at him only moments ago.

"Did you think I was going to let them get their claws in him?" he asked, shoulders set taut.

"It's the Security Council," Jack said with quiet emphasis on the words. "Calling for a court martial doesn't mean that they've made their minds up on the matter."

"Too bad for them that I've made up mine," Gabriel said. "And Jesse's made up his."

Jack frowned at him, one hand sweeping out in a tight, pleading gesture.

"He'll be labeled as a deserter, Gabe. If they decide to stop there, that is. Not having his testimony isn't going to make this easier. You've probably just put him on Interpol's watchlist for the rest of his life. How is that better for him?"

"It's better because he won't get caught up in this mess," Gabriel cut back, voice low. "They shouldn't have known that he was there in the first place. What makes you think they wouldn't pull out some other bullshit in the trial? Did you really think a thug from Deadlock's got a chance at getting away scot free in a case like that?"

"That's not what I'm saying," Jack said, a plaintive tone slipping into his voice. His shoulders sagged as his hand flapped through the air with anxious energy. "But you could have at least given it a chance. I know there's something wrong here--I haven't forgotten what you told me--but if we're just playing into their hands if we let them paint us as villains. Innocent men don't run, Gabe."

"They do when they know the jury's stacked against them," Gabriel said with cold certainty.

His hands clenched against his arms as he watched the silent conflict written clear in Jack's body. It set a painful twist in his chest. Jack had listened to him following the inquiry. He'd seen the evidence that Gabriel had found from Gerard's efforts and Jesse's work in London. He hadn't stood against Gabriel then, but those words were a painful echo of what he said now.

They should play it cautious, Jack said. If they really were compromised at that level, it had to be someone high ranked, someone with access to their most confidential records. They needed to play along, couldn't let it slip that they knew, not until they had some idea who it was, of how deep the conspiracy wound.

Gabriel had been hesitant on taking Jack's approach then, every instinct screaming that he needed to move before it was too late, but Jack's persuasion had gotten the better of him. It wasn't the same this time.

"You don't know that," Jack said, the excuse falling flat with a weak sigh from his lips. He shook his head, reaching up to drag a hand roughly through his hair, leaving it sticking out every which way. "None of us know what's going on here. I want to find out who's behind this as much as you do, believe me. But I can't have you going off calling the shots on your own like this. You've got to trust me."

"Would you have let me give Jesse an out if I told you?" Gabriel asked, his voice low, as calm as he could manage with the tumult twisting his insides like a vice.

Jack looked up at him, lips pursed into a tight line across his face. The silence, the nervous look behind his blue eyes gave Gabriel the answer he needed, even before Jack opened his mouth to speak.

"We could have at least talked it over," Jack said. His admission remained unspoken. "Could have found another option."

"There's not always another way," Gabriel shook his head. "Jesse knows that. He knew what he'd be risking going up on that stand, and he knows what he's risking out on the road like that. You've seen him slip the grid before. After all this time, don't you trust him?"

"I trust him. I trust you," Jack said in answer to the question hidden just beneath the surface of Gabriel's words. He gaze slipped out to the open door, the creases between his eyes deepening as his lips set into a heavy frown. "I know you'll get to the bottom of this. You always get your mark. All I'm asking is that you don't go where I can't follow."

The reassurance was enough to soothe the lingering heat in Gabriel's gut, at least for now. He didn't want to be at odds with Jack, didn't want to see him like this, but he knew that he had to.

"Sunshine can't go where there's shadows," Gabriel said with a rough exhale. He stepped forward, closing the gap between them to reach for Jack. His hand cupped against the side of Jack's cheek, drawing him in until his gaze met Gabriel's again, the unexpected intimacy of the gesture soothing the worry from his eyes.

Gabriel leaned in, familiarity guiding him in the kiss. The warm sweep of Jack's lips on his were a balm against the tension knotted over his back and spine. Jack's hands found his waist, warm to the touch, holding him in even after Gabriel broke the kiss, his eyes open to meet Jack's expectant gaze.

"You just keep playing the golden boy," he murmured against Jack's parted lips. "I'll get us our revenge."

\---

Jack was right about the Security Council, at least in their treatment of Jesse, but what he hadn't seen coming was the hefty punishment they'd leveled against Gabriel instead.

There was no way for them to know about the conversation in the garage that night. Gabriel had wiped Athena's records himself, but Gabriel's mind honed in on the self-satisfied smirk that Petras shot his way while Adawe enumerated the terms and stipulations of his new suspension.

Jack told him not to look into it too much without evidence to back it up. Petras had always had it out for him.

The seething dark rage billowing at the back of Gabriel's mind had other thoughts on the matter.

Blackwatch was hobbled and gutted by the new order. Any mission, any deployment, any action he wanted his agents to undertake needed to be sanctioned by a quorum of Jack, Adawe, and Petras himself. He'd been given a pithy avenue for recourse, the chance to appeal their decision based on any existing intelligence shared by the members of the Security Council, but Gabriel knew that anything he was going to get second hand wouldn't amount to much, not when it came to tracking down Talon and their network.

So he went to ground on his own. They might have taken his soldiers, but Gabriel Reyes was a man who had trained himself on how to best disappear into the shadows of the world. Blackwatch had a network of safehouses and drop points scattered across the globe, Blackpoints, where he could slip the grid of Overwatch's incessant surveillance, could escape the notice of whoever it was that had infiltrated their ranks.

Jack had permitted him at least this much, promised to cover for him if any questions came from Petras or Adawe. It meant spending weeks apart at a time, but it was a sacrifice they were both willing to make for the sake of clearing their names.

His first stop was Blackpoint Tam Dao, a series of tunnels carved into the mountains to the Northwest of Watchpoint Hanoi. From there, it wasn't difficult for Gabriel to intercept the transmissions and obtain the information that he needed from the comings and goings of the Watchpoint.

What Gabriel found was a web stretched far wider than he could have possibly imagined. There were systems in Hanoi that hadn't been following their threat detection protocols. Agents were granted leave in the midst of high security operations on authorized that had no input from any of their supervising officers. As Gabriel dug deeper the mysteries only spread. Active credentials were in use for Blackwatch agents lost in action. His gut sank with an uncomfortable twinge as the familiar identification numbers flashed across his screen where he sat holed away in the damp, dark quarters carved out of the Tam Dao mountains, the speakers on his tablet quietly filling the hallways with an old classic rock station.

Whoever it was that was pulling the strings here had access to far more data than he could have imagined. The names on the Blackwatch roster had been cleared at some of the highest levels in his organization. If their credentials had been activated, they would have clear visibility into the vast majority of Blackwatch's operations.

But that wasn't right, he thought as a sickening chill spread over his clammy skin. Any activation of credentials at that clearance level would have required his approval, his sign off. He should have known, should have been notified somehow.

They must have suppressed it, somehow. Hacked the system to disable the notifications, display the credentials as inactive in all areas except for system access.

He flew back from Vietnam that night, shut himself up in his and Jack's shared quarters, poring over the data he had until the heavy fatigue of jetlag dragged him into a restless sleep.

His dreams were a blur, shadows chasing him at every turn. He raced through the halls of Headquarters, across the ravaged battlefields of the Crisis, through the ruins of Los Angeles, the dank and dripping hallways of his own personal empire, the smell of smoke and rotting flesh flooding his senses until they burned away with a searing bright light. Spotlights leveled on him and he stood on a stage, blinded by white. He reached out, trying to find Jack at his back, at his side, anywhere, but his hands only met empty air, anxiety clenching about his chest like a fist.

The lights dimmed and Gabriel saw the audience that had gathered before him. Director Petras sat presiding over the crowed, perched behind an ornately carved desk, the black robes of a judge draped across his shoulders. Flanked about him stood the Security Council, Gabriel's fallen soldiers, agents of Overwatch, diplomats, countless faces that he'd crossed in his long military career. But what caught Gabriel's attention wasn't the crowd, it wasn't the wicked smirk stretched over Petras's features, but the figure that stood before him, just out of arm's reach.

Jack stood still as a statue, his mouth curved into a heavy frown, disappointment and a weary fatigue clear in the heavy crease of his brows. Gabriel opened his mouth to shout, to call his name, but no sound came. His breath stuck in his lungs, his mouth filling with an acrid, black smoke.

He woke with a silent inhale, air hissing past his teeth.

The familiar ceiling of his bedroom was blissfully dark, lit only by the faint glow of the halogen lights filtering in through the blinds. He could hear his heart pounding loud in his ears, echoing in the silence of the room. His sheets clung tight and uncomfortable around the sweat-slicked skin of his body.

With a rough start Gabriel pushed himself up, pressing the heels of his hands hard against his eyes.

He breathed in, one two three four. Breathed out, one two three four.

Slowly, the echoing beat of his heart slowed its pace. He could hear his breathing, could feel the rough texture of the sheets wrapped about his legs, the goosebumps prickling against his skin in the chilly night air of the room, the warm, radiant heat of the body stretched out in the bed beside him.

He turned, looked to where Jack lay, silhouetted in darkness and the white of the bed, sleeping soundly.

Neither of them were strangers to nightmares. In the years following the Crisis it was common enough for Gabriel to wake only to find Jack sitting up next to him, arms curled around his chest, fingers dragging through his hair, working his way through the dregs of some new night terror.

They'd supported each other then, given solace, comfort where they could. Yet as time had stretched on, as Jack's Strike Commander duties pulled him farther and farther away from the battlefield, the balance had tilted. While fresh battles painted themselves in Gabriel's dreams most nights, Jack's settled into something normal, complacent.

He slept soundly, losing the edge of a soldier who'd need to be ready to fight at a moment's notice. Gabriel would rouse him, at times, when the need was urgent enough, when he longed for the feeling of Jack's chest pressed to his forehead, Jack's fingers in his hair.

A phantom ache of Jack's touch crept across his skin, like the cold caress of a ghost. What could Jack do to sooth him now?

Settled at the edge of the bed, he dropped his arms to brace against his knees. The pieces of the last few days fell into place. They chased the mists of his dreams away only to replace them with the afterimages of Watchpoint Hanoi's access logs dancing across the backs of his eyelids. In the silence of his room, he dredged through his thoughts, with the tinny sound of the speakers and the twang of hundred year old classics providing a backdrop to his uncertain thoughts.

He knew exactly what would happen if any of his findings ever made their way to light. The blame, the suspicion would land cleanly on his shoulders. Why wasn't Blackwatch's Commander exercising better security practices around his own agent's credentials? Why had he allowed his agents to slip the grid, with no accountability or explanation for their actions?

What proof did he have that he hadn't been the one behind it all along?

A shudder of fear crept over his skin, tightening about his chest like the cold bars of a cage. He turned again, his eyes tracking the line of Jack's arms, the relaxed curve of his hands, as the old lyrics echoed in his mind.

The urge welled in his belly, rising tight to the back of his throat. All it would take would be a simple motion, reaching out to rouse him, telling him everything he knew, everything he had. They could find a way together, could root the real villains out, bring them to light.

But if they failed it'd be Jack who'd take the fall along with him. And that was just what they wanted, wasn't it? What Gabriel had found was a taint, a curse. He couldn't let it spread, couldn't let it touch Jack until he was certain they could pull it out by its roots.

He stood. The bed shifted in his absence, but Jack didn't stir. In the silent darkness, Gabriel dragged on his sweatpants and hoodie, slipping out on his own.

A global organization like Overwatch never truly slept. Even in the dark hours of the early morning, Gabriel wasn't completely alone. He passed agents running here and there in the brightly lit hallways, felt their gazes linger on the Blackwatch emblem on his sleeve, and saw their stares as they passed him by.

Blackwatch agents were a rare sight these days, but he was certain more than one of them must have seen the broadcast of his inquiry panel after Jesse left them. He was sure they were thinking the same thoughts, the same uncertainty about whether Blackwatch was really doing good for the world. Whether or not Gabriel really was as much of a ruthless antagonist as the media made him out to be.

Just the thought of it left his skin crawling, the weight at the back of his throat threatening to suffocate him.

He tore away from the path he'd been winding to intelligence bay without a second thought, backtracking until he found himself perched on the balcony that jutted off the side of the officer's mess hall. No one could make their way up here without clearance. He'd be free of the stares and sideways glances at least until the hallways filled with enough of a crowd for him to lose himself in.

With a sigh, Gabriel braced against the cold steel railing of the balcony, looking out to where the snow capped mountains circling Geneva seemed to glow faintly blue against the inky darkness of the night sky.

He barely had enough time to put his thoughts back to order before the door hissed open behind him, staccato footsteps echoing against the concrete floors, drawing closer. Gabriel closed his eyes, his shoulders tightening with tension, jaw working with barely concealed unease.

"You need something, Captain?"

"Nothing at the moment," Ana said, settling against the railing next to him. "But it seems to me like you could use some company."

"What makes you think that?" Gabriel said, casting her a sideways glance.

She was dressed down for the moment in a long-sleeved cardigan, cream colored shirt and slacks, her braided hair loosely draped over one shoulder. The look was softer than the harsh lines emphasized by her Captain's uniform. Like this, she looked less like a weapon and more like a mother, though Gabriel knew she was equal parts of both. Even in the dark light of the morning, he could still see the sharp edge in her gaze as she looked up at him, sizing him up, measuring his every tell.

"Jack said you found something in Hanoi," she said, taking her eyes away from his. "You came back ahead of schedule, but you won't tell him what it is that you know."

"I didn't know I was supposed to give you a sitrep," Gabriel snorted, anger creeping up his spine like an uncomfortable, dry heat.

"It doesn't matter to me what it is that you found," Ana shook her head slightly. "He's worried about you Gabriel. About how hard you're pushing yourself, about how you're coping without Jesse."

Her words snuffed the rage as quickly as it came, left it roiling like embers in his gut. He thought of the way Jack'd looked at him when he'd told him about the Hanoi mission, the way Jack's eyes had been the night when he'd let Jesse go. He pushed them both away with a rough exhale, steeling himself against the threat of spreading the festering contagin of what he knew, of what it meant for all of them.

"I'm fine, Ana," he grit out, eyes fixed resolutely on the horizon stretched out before them. "I know how to handle this. This is my mission. I'll get to the bottom of it."

"Neither of us doubts your ability," she said, voice pitching suddenly quieter, hushed with an uncharacteristic tone of raw urgency. "But you don't have to do this alone, Gabriel."

"Here I thought you always took his side," Gabriel scoffed, quiet.

"I'm not in the business of picking sides," Ana said with an arch lift of her eyebrow. "I'm only doing what I can to look after you both."

The warmth of Ana's words had wormed their way into him, as subtle as the rising glow of dawn approaching on the horizon. He couldn't tell her, couldn't tell any of them. He had to be the one to protect them, to stand before the floodgates of whatever it was that Talon had planned for them all, but he knew at least that Ana would be there for him when he needed her. When the time was right, she'd stand at his back, just like she always had.

He sighed, exhaling the knot of tension and worry wound about his chest.

"Thanks."

\---

Fareeha lowered her mother into the ground on a blissfully sunny day in June.

Gabriel stood shoulder to shoulder with Jack, carrying her body to the open grave where Fareeha waited, with Reinhardt and Fareeha's father ahead of them. Fareeha propped her mother up with three mounds of earth. Her expression was distant and fixed as she cast her handfuls of dirt into the grave. Her voice was eerily calm as she recited her prayers and stepped aside for the remainder of the mourners to have their chance.

Gabriel followed after Jack. The black of the grave seemed to swallow up the fading white of Ana's burial shroud. He cast his portion of dirt down onto it, watching as the dark earth mounded atop what was left by those who went before him.

Jack's eyes were on him. Fareeha's eyes were on him. He felt the weight of the stares from the entire assembly of mourners gathered to pay their respects to one of the greatest women he'd ever known. Each one pinned him, plunged past his skin and muscle straight to bone, splitting his ribs open and twisting deep into his chest.

It had been a hostage situation, Talon's work. There was no such thing as an easy operation when civilians were involved, but Ana Amari never missed her mark. When she was on cover most units heaved a sigh of relief knowing that they had a sharp eye and a good shot at their back.

Not this time.

Three soldiers lost. It seemed like a small mercy that their hostages made it out of the fray unharmed, but Gabriel didn't trust it. Not when he knew who it was who had taken the shot against Ana.

The intel had fallen into his lap only the night before the planned strike against Talon's stronghold. He'd been cycling through the Talon lines they'd tapped, hoping that one of them would lead him to some sort of lead on the double agents hidden within their own ranks. What he needed was a name, a slip, some kind of thread he could pull on to unravel this whole mess.

He'd gotten his name, but the thread was cut short then and there. Amelie Lacroix.

The hair on his neck had stood on end the moment he'd heard it. It was too practiced, too deliberate to be a slip. They knew he was listening, they'd wanted him to know.

Gabriel had spent the rest of the night in a frantic mess. He'd paged back through the investigation files on Gerard's murder, back through the surveillance footage they had of Talon's known outposts, through the hacked data files, through their tapped correspondence transcriptions. He needed something, just a shred, just a scrap to prove he wasn't losing his damn mind. Something that would confirm it really was a familiar face waiting for Jack and Ana on the other side of that engagement.

It was nearly 3 in the morning before he fired off a last ditch message to Jack that night, sparing the details, only begging him for a chance to talk on a secured line.

His comms were silent until he got the report about Ana, about the mission status.

Almost simultaneously, the notice came in from intel's transcription workers. An intercepted dispatch from the night before, a positive link between Amelie and the new Talon sniper that their agents had not-so-affectionately dubbed "the Widowmaker."

Rage warred with hot tears of grief, rising like bile and salt at the back of Gabriel's throat. He'd ripped open the transcription file, furious and determined to find who the hell it was that had delayed what should have been flagged as a top priority task. Yet there, at the top of the screen, written in faintly glowing white against the impassive black background was a name that shouldn't have been there in the first place.

Jack Morrison.

Gabriel swallowed the memory down, lifting his eyes up to meet Jack's expectant gaze.

It was another trap, another goddamn set up just waiting for him to move out of line, to misstep just enough to crash them all down into nothing more than ashes and dust.

He knew it hadn't been Jack who'd delayed the file, knew it was impossible that Jack would deny his soldiers in the field the intel they needed to know who they were up against.

But if it wasn't Jack, who was it? If it wasn't Jack, then who would have had the level of access to forge his credentials, to impersonate the highest ranking member of Overwatch? Who the hell would have the ability to imitate that level of clearance?

The doubt curled around his throat like a noose, like the crisp edges of his pressed collar digging into skin, uncomfortable and insistent. Gabriel tried to push it away as he walked across the finely trimmed grass of the cemetery, turning to fall in line at Jack's side, but it persisted. It stayed, like an itch begging to be scratched raw. Every time he caught a glance of Jack out of the corner, every time he felt the weight of Jack's gaze rest on him, it only grew stronger, more insistent.

By the time the short ceremony was over, Gabriel wanted nothing more than escape. He wanted the chance to run, chase every last Talon bastard down and wring their necks with his own two hands. Sweat beaded at the small of his back, against the line of his brow in the unforgiving sunlight. He turned to make for the car, only to stop at the pressure of Jack's hand against his elbow.

Gabriel turned, slowly, to fix an even look at Jack's face.

"What is it?" he asked, keeping his voice low out of some semblance of respect for the slowly dispersing crowd around them.

"We need to talk," Jack said, plain as that.

"Is this really the place for that?" Gabriel arched an eyebrow in question.

"It is when you've been avoiding me like the plague," Jack pointed out.

Gabriel picked up on the the faint undercurrent of hurt beneath the words, his lips curling into a grimace at the sound of it.

"I'm not avoiding you," he said. "Can this wait?"

With a shake of his head, the fingers of Jack's hand curled harder against Gabriel's sleeve. "I've been waiting on it," Jack said. "I need to talk to you."

The glint of the sun in the sky made Jack's eyes seem brighter than usual, but it wasn't enough to hide the look in them. Gabriel knew that look, he'd seen it years ago on the stubborn new enlisted brat the moment he'd walked through the doors of the SEP facility, the moment he'd dropped his tray down on the table across from Gabriel at mess one day. He'd seen it in the face of countless battles during the Crisis, when it'd felt like him and Jack up against the end of the world. He'd seen it in the intimate dim light of their bedroom, under the harsh halogens of the bowels of Headquarters.

Jack was never one to make the right decision when his emotions got in the mix. He dug his heels in, let his stubborn streak run wild with his better judgement. Even after all these years, that much hadn't changed, and Gabriel knew damn well he wasn't about to change Jack's mind now.

"Well, here I am," Gabriel said, twisting his arm from Jack's grasp to spread it between them in a wide gesture, his palm up in surrender. "Start talking."

The line of Jack's brow drew down over his eyes, the look in them honing in, sharper as he fixed the intensity of it on Gabriel's face. His tongue darted out over worn lips, his hand falling limp at his side, fingers curling into a loose fist.

"You still haven't told me why you called--the night before the raid."

Jack had asked as soon as he'd returned, as soon as they'd exchanged formalities and shared a brief moment of together in light of Ana's death. The question had sapped any warmth that Gabriel might have found in Jack's embrace, making the comfort he'd found ring hollow, even now.

"I told you it doesn't matter," Gabriel answered, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. "Just let it drop, Jack."

"That's bullshit," Jack said, voice snapping against the words, shoulders tensed beneath his suit jacket. His fingers curled into the fabric of his pants, twisting it into messy wrinkles before letting go. "You don't call me in the middle of the night--you've never begged to talk to me like that over nothing. It was something, Gabe."

"Call it an error in judgement, then," Gabriel snorted. "Our good friend Director Petras says I'm full of those lately."

It was the wrong thing to say, but that didn't stop Gabriel. Anger was carving deeper lines into the creases of Jack's face, distorting the sharp blue of his eyes. He hated the disdain that Petras threw at Gabriel even more than Gabriel did himself, but his position formed him to bite his tongue. Having Gabriel throw that much back in his face was like grinding salt into the wound, carving a crevice into the earth between them.

Years together meant that Gabriel knew exactly how to push Jack's buttons, exactly how to piss him off, and he didn't intend to miss this time.

"Do you think I won't believe you? That I won't trust you?" Jack bit at him, jaw clenched. Oh, he was angry all right. "Just tell me what it was--"

"You want to know?" Gabriel cut in, his voice pitched low, dangerous. He leaned in, closing the gap that divided them, one hand reaching up to clench at the lapel of Jack's suit coat, holding him in place. "Do you really want to know what it was? Do you think you're ready to get dragged down into the sort of bullshit hell that I've been putting up with for the past year and a half--"

"It's better than you running at it alone," Jack shot back, his hand closing tight around Gabriel's wrist. His eyes cut across Gabriel's features like ice, taking in every twitch, every crease of his expression, seizing about every single one of Gabriel's tells with a cold, unyielding grip. "You knew something about the strike." It was an accusation, not a question. "About the Talon boots on the ground, something that would have changed the outcome of the engagement. You knew something that would have--" he paused, only for a moment, glancing fractionally back to where Ana Amari lay buried beneath six feet of fresh, black dirt.

Anger flared white hot on Gabriel's tongue, filling his mouth with the taste of bile and ash.

"I told you to let it drop." He wouldn't let Jack say it, couldn't let the truth have that sort of hold over him. But Jack already knew. His eyes blew wide, nostrils flaring with a tight, hissing intake of breath. Gabriel ground tooth on tooth, twisting the fabric in his hand until he felt it threaten to tear with the strength of his grip. "You were the one who didn't answer--not that it changes a damn thing now. She'd dead, Jack. She's dead and gone, and there's no way that anyone can bring her back."

For a moment Gabriel thought it was enough. Jack's throat bobbed, just barely brushing against the knuckles of Gabriel's hand, the grip slackening on his wrist for a heartbeat before it tightened again.

"You could have saved her," Jack said.

The truth hit Gabriel like a shot to the gut, twisting and tearing at his innards, leaving grief and fury swelling and melting together with a maddening, pulsing heat.

"Jack--" There was a warning on his breath, a shudder racing through his body as he tried to hold the raw emotion back.

"You've been withholding information--this entire time, you've known." Jack shook his head.

The tips of his fingers ground into the pulse points on Gabriel's wrist, tight enough to bruise. Gabriel refused to flinch, his eyes locked on the tumult of shock, hurt, and betrayal captured on Jack's face. Jack's mouth opened, closing again into a tight line, teeth dragging over his lip to leave vanishing white streaks across the chapped surface. His eyes closed, the furrow at the center of his brow plunging deep, before his gaze snapped up. Piercing blue met Gabriel's gaze like a shot from a pulse rifle. Jack turned on the attack.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?" he demanded, shaking his grip against Gabriel's wrist. "What gives you that right? I thought I could trust you--she thought she could trust you, Gabe! We thought that you were watching out for us."

He snapped in the blink of an eye. Adrenaline gripped his mind, his fist jerking through the air. Skin, muscle, and bone collided with the picture perfect line of Jack's jaw, slamming into him with enough surprise and force to loosen his hold on Gabriel, to send him stumbling back across the grass.

"Then trust me when I say it doesn't fucking matter anymore!" Gabriel shouted, anger blotting out the edges of his vision in ugly black streaks. "Trust me when I tell you to drop it. Just leave it alone. I'll get it under control."

"You call this under control?" Jack's arm flung out across the grounds, to the fresh grave, to the watching eyes of the crowd still gathered around them. "You've lost me three of my best agents. You let Ana down."

"You don't get to speak for the dead, Jack," Gabriel said, schooling his voice into a low warning.

His eyes flicked to the side, following Jack's rough gesture not to the grave, but to every stare fixed on the two of them. The tabloid headlines were already running in his mind. Fodder for the flames, all the more reason for the public to question Overwatch, question him. Ana Amari was no figurehead, but the people loved her well enough. Every moment that this dragged on he was just playing into their hands.

Slowly, Gabriel let his breath slip from parted lips, dissolving the vice of tension that gripped his muscles. He lifted his gaze again, casting one final glance to the dark slash cut into the ground beyond them.

"I'll answer to Ana when I see her again."

\---

Barely a month passed before the noose wound tighter around Gabriel's throat.

He hadn't seen his face grace the cover of a magazine since the Crisis. That seemed like a lifetime away now. Back then, Jack had been relentless about the whole affair. Gabriel had caught him unrepentantly staring at the proofs the photographer had sent him from the shoot more than once.

Jack had only grinned up at him, unabashed as he lamented how they hadn't picked the one that really captured the line of his jaw, his nose, the way his eyes looked here, or his cheekbones here.

Eventually Gabriel had to let it drop for no other reason than not having any idea what to do with the sudden abundance of praise Jack saw fit to heap on him.

They were younger then, inseparable, firmly convinced that what they had found together would last forever, until they found themselves quietly retired to some quiet corner of middle America to wind out the last of their days.

This time it was different.

Jack called Gabriel into his office, the door hissing shut behind him as he stepped into the dimly lit room. The monitors set against the wall were filled with headlines and talking heads, Gabriel didn't even need to see the captions or read the words to know exactly what they were talking about. It was the same thing article that was pulled open on Jack's desk, blown up so that the shadow of Gabriel's figure occupied the entire space.

An expose by Olympia Shaw. Anonymous sources had dropped a wealth of intelligence on the free presses, from mission specs to agent files, communications recordings and transcripts, the works. It seemed like every single step that Gabriel had made over the past twenty years was stripped out and laid bare for the world to see, and they didn't like what they saw.

Of course, it was nothing that Jack didn't know. Every detail, every death, every infringement on the sovereign rights of the United Nation's member states had come across his desk. But it wasn't the surprise of it that mattered now. It wasn't the shock of the atrocities that dug deeper creases into the lines about Jack's lips, that stained the bags under his eyes dark like bruises. It was the fact that now they were there for the world to see.

He didn't offer any explanation as to why he'd pulled Gabriel into his office, he didn't need to. Just one weary glance lit by the glowing LEDs of the displays said it all. Jack sat heavily in his chair pinching the bridge of his nose in one hand, his breath angry and loud as it forced its way from his lungs.

"The Security Council's made their decision," he said.

"Took them long enough," Gabriel scoffed. His arms were held tight over his chest, palms braced flat against the muscles of his biceps. It'd only been a week since the article had dropped, since the tumultuous cry had raised from the public at large, calling for his head, calling for Jack's head. Calling for them to disband Blackwatch, disband Overwatch as a whole.

Jack glared at him with little heat, the demands of countless meetings, press conferences and inquiries finally draining even his seemingly endless energy to empty.

"Then I guess I don't need to tell you what they've decided?" he asked, his voice a dry rasp.

"Let me guess," Gabriel mused, lifting one hand to thumb along the stubble lining his jaw. He cast his eyes upward in a mocking impression of careful consideration. "They've rendered all my agents effectively useless, so it won't be so much for them to officially dissolve Blackwatch now, would it? Dishonorable discharge for every single one of my agents who've saved their asses more times than I care to count. But they're not giving me the same, no. They want to keep me under their thumb, don't they? Can't track a wolf once you've let him back into the wilds, but they've gotta make a show of it. They gonna put me on trial, Jack? Parade me about on some kind of trumped up charges. Make the whole world think I'm the bad guy? Is that what they've got in store for us?"

Jack's eyes fixed on him throughout the entire tirade, his lips pursed into a slash across his face, chin resting heavy on the backs of his hands where he braced them against the desk in front him. He breathed out once Gabriel was finished, an angry snort, lips curling back from his teeth with a barely-contained snarl.

"And you don't see a problem with that, do you?"

Jack knew as well as he did that the information was a leak, a conspiracy to turn the tide against them. But where Jack saw only disaster, saw the dangerous murmurs of letting the public have their way, of letting everything they'd built crumble to the ground, Gabriel saw the mistake they'd made as clear as day.

The double agents had been careful up until now. They'd covered their steps, traced and retraced until no sign could be found. But now they'd brought a civilian into this mix, and for as much as Olympia Shaw prided herself on maintaining the confidentiality of her exclusive sources, civilians were sloppy. Gabriel's tenuous online network of informants and allies was already closing in around the leak. His sights were narrowing on potential targets high up within the ranks of Overwatch and the United Nations alike.

The United Nations could throw whatever they wanted at him. They could drag his beaten body down through the mud and back, make a spectacle of the farce of a trial they planned to put on for his so-called crimes. It wouldn't be long now. He could almost taste the sweet nectar of revenge on his tongue.

Gabriel gave a roll of his shoulders, turning away from Jack to watch the news feeds scroll past on the display wall of Jack's office.

"You've got a problem with it?"

"We can't let them keep doing this, Gabe--" the desperation in Jack's voice cut his words short. He sucked in a tight breath and Gabriel didn't need to look to know that Jack had buried his face in his hand, pressing fingertips tight to the corners of his eyes.

He wasn't sleeping well, Gabriel could tell.

Not that he'd know, anyway. After the fight at Ana's funeral, Jack had pulled him aside, asking for space, claiming they both needed their time to grieve.

It hurt sharper than any knife, twisting in Gabriel's guts. The wound was still fresh now, a cold, dead weight that dragged at him with every word, every barely contained urge to reach out to Jack, to sooth, to reassure him that it'd be all right.

"Keep doing what?" Gabriel said instead, honing his words with a steely edge.

"You know what I'm talking about," Jack said, clipped and harsh. "I can't have people finding out like this--I thought you were taking care of this. I thought you said that you'd stop them."

"Just you wait and see, Jack," Gabriel turned, favoring Jack with a grin that was as sharp as it was dangerous. "I'll show them why they don't mess with what's mine."

Jack's gaze fixed on him, his expression momentarily inscrutable, masked by some emotion Gabriel couldn't name, before he shook his head with a sharp gesture.

"No. I think I've waited long enough," he said, pushing up off the edge of the desk to stand, shoulder squared, his posture straightening to highlight the slight difference in their heights. "They've asked me to stop all Blackwatch activity, and that means all of it, Gabe."

Gabriel's heart pounded heavy and loud in his ears, the words shooting clear to his chest. He knew what they meant, even if he refused to accept it.

"Jack..." he said, voice low in warning.

"All of it," Jack said, staring him down, unyielding. "On the books and off. I know you want to catch them, want to find who's done this, but I can't let you go running off where I can't answer for it. Not at a time like this."

"You don't know what you're doing," Gabriel growled. The heat flared across the back of his neck, his hands clenching into tight fists at his sides. "Do you know how close I've gotten?"

"No, I don't," Jack said, his eyes narrowing sharper at Gabriel's words. "Because you won't tell me. Because you won't trust me. I told you I'd support you in this, but you've gone too far, Gabriel. If it matters to you, if stopping this really matters, then you'll make the case--let me help you make the case--but I can't let you do this alone, not anymore."

"Jack--" Gabriel snapped in angry desperation, his hands slamming down against the edge of Jack's desk.

"That's enough," Jack shot back, unflinching in the face of Gabriel's rage. "Your clearance is revoked and your activities are suspended effective immediately. You're not to leave base without prior authorization, my authorization. Any communications will be monitored and recorded."

It was like the floor dropped out from beneath Gabriel's feet. The room around him reeled with a phantom vertigo. His breath caught in his lungs, salt stinging the corners of his eyes.

"You can't do this," Gabriel grit out past the raw emotion searing his throat. "You can't take their side, Jack."

"I'm not picking sides," Jack said, the words echoing with a haunted chill racing up Gabriel's back. "I'm only doing what I can to protect what we've built."

"Jack," Gabriel choked out, a last, fleeting plea.

For a moment he thought he saw the resolve waver in Jack's eyes, the edges of his lips softening into something like the man he knew, the man he loved. In a flicker it was gone, replaced as quickly as it had come by steel and ice, a cold, calculating formality that looked foreign on Jack's usually bright face.

"That will be all," he said. "You're dismissed."

Gabriel stood, frozen by the chill of Jack's words, the ice in his eyes. He didn't remember turning, didn't remember fleeing the room until he realized that his footsteps had carried him to the dusty room that had served as his own private quarters for the past few weeks.

He stepped inside without a second thought, the door hissing shut behind him, plunging the entire room into inky blackness.

His knees gave out a moment later, his back colliding with the solid metal of the door, hands dragging across the shorn hair of his head, up beneath the tattered fabric of his beanie. Jack was against him, no. Jack had no other choice. The betrayal bled inside him all the same, bright red and pulsing hard in time with his frantic heartbeat.

The thoughts raced in his mind like a whirlwind, tracing quickly back and forth over everything he knew, everything he'd seen, only to be drowned out by the chilling weight of Jack's words bearing down hard against his chest.

It was hurt upon hurt. Gabriel swallowed them all, trying to push the creeping cold at the tips of his limbs away, to quell the fury of the storm inside him. He'd been through worse than this before, he wanted to tell himself, but he could spot the lie in the empty reassurances he tried to conjure for himself.

Shooting down tin cans in the Crisis was nothing like this. Standing toe to toe against the reluctance of the United Nations when the survival of humanity was at stake was nothing like this. Choking down pills and the bitter after effects of SEP's enhancements was nothing like this. In all those times, he'd had Jack. In every moment since he'd stepped through those doors a lifetime ago only to catch the eye of some brightly smiling Midwest farm boy, he hadn't been alone.

He was alone now. The ache settled, the name giving it shape enough for Gabriel to wrap his mind around it, holding it heavy where it carved an empty void into his chest. He swallowed hard against it. There was only way to fix this, only one way to settle the score, to set things to rights.

With a shaking breath, he pulled his hands down over his face, staring out into the empty black of the room.

He'd do this alone if he had to.

\---

Gabriel beat against the bars of his cage Jack made for him like an animal gone wild. He prowled the halls of Headquarters like a spectacle, draws stares and whispers from every corner, at every turn. They prickled against his skin, pierced him like the fine points of a thousand needles, each one pricking just enough to draw blood.

It would have crushed a lesser man, he thought with morbid fascination. The mounting pressure and critique, the heavy weight of the accusations leveled at his head. But Gabriel wouldn't let Jack hold him back. Nothing that the Security Council or the United Nations or the whole of the world could throw at him would hold him back now.

He realized that he'd failed those many months ago in letting the fear take hold of him. He'd been afraid to step into the trap that was laid out for him, afraid of what might have become of him if he'd exposed the threats lurking in Overwatch's underbelly that bore his name. Now he knew. It didn't matter if the trap was sprung. He'd still rip it up from the roots, he'd still tear through chain and steel. He'd expose the beast lurking in his own home for what it was.

Fortunately enough, after the expose the press was frothing like a frenzy of sharks with blood in the water. All Gabriel needed to do was toss them a bit of chum and see who sunk their teeth, who called for their heads, and who kept to the shadows of the whole affair.

He knew enough to find out how to reverse engineer the systems that had let the shadows sink into the heart of Overwatch's best kept secrets. He didn't need clearance when he could fake it, didn't need to worry about being locked down when he could cover his tracks.

The shadows began to slowly lift on the conspiracy around him. Gabriel made a list, committed it to memory. Day by day it stretched longer and longer, the ranks climbing higher and higher in the Overwatch hierarchy. Every night he lulled himself to sleep in the dark of his empty room with the sweet thought of how he'd make each and every one of them suffer. He rested with their cries of pain and anguish filling his dreams, he woke to the afterimage of their faces contorted in agony on his eyelids.

Then, he found the Failsafe Protocol.

He almost glossed over it at first. It seemed like nothing more than a set of architectural schematics. But why a set of documents locked down to only Director Petras's credentials would include architectural information gave him pause.

Gabriel frowned, curling a hand over his beard, fingertips dragging along the line of his jaw. He opened the document, glancing across the title, the maps and diagrams plotted across the page.

His eyes widened at what he found, the muscles in his neck growing taut.

The documents were the blueprints for the Swiss Headquarters, but included at the building's foundation were tiny chambers, concealed by the remainder of the structure.

Each and every one held enough explosives to rip the entire of Headquarters to pieces, to tear it down. The trigger point, as detailed in the documents, was a simple access code input by Director Petras.

Gabriel's stomach dropped, the hairs across his arms standing on end.

The documents laid out the reasons for the protocol plainly enough. Should Overwatch Headquarters ever become compromised, the Security Council wanted a failsafe, a way to ensure that the research and technology housed within its walls wouldn't fall into the wrong hands. But Gabriel saw it for the threat it was, he realized with as far as the conspiracy had penetrated into their ranks it'd be no difficult task for them to pull the trigger, to send thousands of people to the grave and leave the foundation of Overwatch as nothing more than a smoking crater on the ground.

His mind raced, fear clenching a heavy fist around the back of his throat. He had to do something, tell someone. He couldn't leak this to the public, not to the presses. Jack had to know, every agent stationed at Headquarters had the right to know--

A sharp chime from the tablet in his hands cut his thoughts short. He turned back down only to find a small black window open on in the center of his screen, the text written across it glowing white against the dark background.

"I know you're watching."

Gabriel bit back a curse, his fingers tapping hastily against the screen, checking his credentials, the trace on his logins. He was sure that he'd covered his tracks this time. But the window only popped up again, the chime piercing through his focus like a knife.

"Do you think you can stop us?"

His eyes narrowed, glaring down the words on the screen. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of a reply. If they'd caught him, there was no way to hide his identity now. Already, his mind was racing back to the chambers housing the explosives. There had to be some way to access them, some way to disarm them.

The window blinked, another message appearing below the first.

"I'm sorry, but you're too late."

Gabriel's heart pounded in his ears, the breath sweeping from his lungs. He didn't stop to wait for the blast he knew was coming, he only tossed his tablet aside, diving out across the room and into the mostly empty hallway beyond.

Some people stopped, some recoiled in fear at the sight of him, and the few that were stupid enough to try to stop him were quickly dispatched, shoved aside but not incapacitated. Gabriel couldn't do that to them, not now. They were running out of time.

He found the stairwell, flying down as quick as his feet would take him, his breath searing red hot in his lungs. The door flung open to a dimly lit hallway housing database servers and munitions supplies. Gabriel could see the schematic clearly in his mind. The chamber was just beyond here, just a little bit more and he'd be there.

Dashing across the hall, he slammed his hand against the access panel, keying in the code only to be met with an angry blare and a red message of "Access Denied."

Gabriel cursed. Of course his credentials wouldn't work. He couldn't get in, not without--

"What do you think you're doing here?" Jack's voice blazed through him like a shot to the chest.

Gabriel turned, eyes wide as they met Jack's expectant glare under the dim glow of the halogens.

"Jack," he breathed. The world slowed for an aching heartbeat. The relief that flooded him at seeing Jack here instantly tainted by the cloying, bitter fear at the back of his mind. Why was Jack here. Jack shouldn't be here.

He swallowed them both down, the pulsing adrenaline racing through his veins reminding him what they needed to do.

"I need your help, Jack," he said, training his voice steady. "You've got to get me past this point."

"You mean you can't do that on your own?" Jack asked, his mouth set in an angry line across his face. "Athena alerted me that there was suspicious network activity originating from one of your devices. You've been forging credentials to get access to get around the terms of your suspension. What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"There's no time to explain," Gabriel shook his head, cutting across the space between them with an angry gesture. "This entire place is about to go up if you don't help me."

The flicker of worry flashing across Jack's face gave Gabriel hope, the flame of it burning too hot against the back of his mouth.

"What are you talking about?" Jack said. His shoulders drew up, hands squeezing tighter with nervous tension at his sides. "There's no way that could happen. We would have detected hostiles if they'd infiltrated at this level--"

"They didn't infiltrate," Gabriel snapped, his words rough, every muscle in his body straining with tension. "It's been here since the start. This whole place is built with a cache with enough to turn it into a crater. They've just got their hands on the switch.

"You can't be serious--"

"I'm serious," Gabriel surged forward, catching Jack by the lapels of his jacket, clinging tight without hauling him in, every fiber of his body screaming at him to drag Jack with him, to run, to take them both out to safety, but he knew that wouldn't be enough. If the base went up, if they got what they wanted it'd take all the evidence with them. There'd be no chance to prove who it was who planted the devices, no chance at proving how deep the conspiracy wound.

"Jack," Gabriel pleaded, his grip tightening. "You've got to believe me. If you still trust me at all, you've got to let me through."

Jack's gaze was caught on him, his eyes wide. In that moment, Gabriel saw the conflict raging inside him as clear as day. Jack's worry, Jack's hope, Jack's panic, his love, his doubt, his fear, all coiled into one messy beast, resonating deep and hard in Gabriel's chest. He let it fill him, let it push the air from his lungs, leaving him breathless.

"I need you Jack," he exhaled, the words pouring out on their own in desperation. "Jack, please trust me."

"Gabe," Jack's lips moved over a name he hadn't said in weeks, slowed by the thickness of his tongue.

In an instant, the world about them tore open. Gabriel felt the force of the blast at his back, throwing him forward. His body collided with Jack's, the two of them pinned to the far wall of the hallway. The world went black, then white hot from the pain spreading across his back and legs.

Just as quickly as it began, it was done. Gabriel pushed himself up, only to find a solid, immobile pressure at his back. He groaned, bracing his hands against something firm, only to stumble when it flinched beneath him, a sharp cry of pain piercing the dull ringing in his ears.

He opened his eyes and saw Jack beneath him. His face was lit in shadow from the lurid glow of the alarm lights around them, the klaxons sounding like a distant buzz to Gabriel's senses. There was blood smeared across Jack's face, bits of shrapnel that had cut twin gashes across his lip, over his forehead.

"Jack," Gabriel breathed in smoke and dust, his voice too loud in his own ears. It was the only thing he could hear clearly.

"Jack," he repeated, lifting a hand up to pull at Jack's cheek, to look into his eyes. Jack's fingers closed on his wrist with an unyielding grasp, his eyes flying open wide, the whites stained red by the flash of the lights.

His lips moved, Gabriel could hear the faint buzz of his voice like he was speaking through water, through a wad of cotton stuffed into Jack's mouth, into his ears. But this close, he could still make out the words. He'd memorized the shape of Jack's lips years ago.

"Athena," he shouted, nearly clear enough for Gabriel to hear him. "Evacuate all floors. This is an order, I need immediate evacuation of the entire facility. Keep scanners up, looking for any hostiles."

Gabriel couldn't make out the AI's response, he didn't know if Jack could either, but Jack's eyes were on him a moment later. The bright blue swept up over Gabriel's face, down across the slim space where their bodies pressed together. A grimace dug into the blood and dust coating his features. When he looked to Gabriel again, Gabriel could see the pain twisting his features, the shimmer gathering at the corners of his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Gabe."

Gabriel frowned, trying to shift again against the solid weight at his back. As he did, he felt it. The shot of pain raced straight up his spine like a bolt of lightning, searing hot and fast. He barely choked back a cry, his head ducked to his chest and teeth clenched tight. When his eyes opened he saw it in the dim red-tinted shadows of the room.

He was trapped. His feet crushed beneath the slab of concrete pressed to his back and the twisted metal of the door he'd been standing in front of. Jack had been blown back, lifted by the force of the blast, escaping the same fate by mere inches.

His eyes snapped up, the pain driving past the shock and adrenalin like a heavy fist squeezing around his mind.

"Jack," he gasped. "Jack, please."

Jack moved quickly, scrambling free beneath him. Gabriel bit back a cry as he jostled the mangled flesh of Gabriel's legs, his fingers pressing harder into the smooth metal of the door beneath.

"Jack you can't leave me here. Get me out, Jack. Get me out of this."

The building around them rumbled. Gabriel's head snapped up. Even though the ringing in his ears, he could hear the whine of steel beams straining, the wall against his back gave a foreboding tremble. Panicked, he looked to where Jack stood in front of him, bloodied and bruised, the bright blue of his Strike Commander uniform torn to shreds.

Jack crouched in front of him a moment later, shoving his shoulder against the slab, boots scraping for purchase on the ground beneath them. Gabriel grit his teeth, muscles screaming in protest, pushing with him. For a moment it seemed to work, the concrete shifting, giving way at their combined strength. Then it slipped, scraping across Gabriel's legs, ripping a searing cry of pain from his throat.

"Gabe--" Jack's grip slipped, he scrabble to try to hold it up, to undo the mess they'd made, but it was already too late. Gabriel was trapped.

The strength went out from Gabriel's arms, his chest pinned against the door now. He struggled, pulling a sucking, wet breath past his lips, looking up to where Jack hovered over him. There was no way out. The reality of it beat heavy against the back of his mind, but he refused it. He wouldn't let himself go down like this. Blackwatch never left one of their own behind, surely Jack would do the same for him.

"Get me out," he pleaded, panting heavily. "Jack, please."

"I'll come back for you," Jack said after a moment's hesitation. He pushed himself up, backing slowly towards the door. "I've got to get everyone out, but I'll come back for you--"

Another shock rumbled through the building, dislodging a shower of dust and debris from the remains of the ceiling overhead. Jack's face was pale even under the smear of blood coating his skin, even in the tinted light of the room. They wasn't any time left for them now.

"Jack!" Gabriel shouted, his throat tearing raw from the force of the words. "Don't you dare leave me--don't you leave me here, Jack!"

Jack looked to him, his hand caught on the twisted remains of the door frame, bracing himself. The tears gathering in Gabriel's eyes blurred the bright red and black of his figure. His lips moved, and he was gone.

"I'm sorry, Gabe."

\---

Black covered Gabriel's senses, a warm, persistent embrace. It buzzed at the edges of skin and muscle, a sensation he hadn't felt in half a lifetime. The black sunk in, seeping deep into bone, into guts and lungs and the still cavities of his unbeating heart. He lost the shape of them in the darkness, felt himself streak against the concrete like a smear of blood, like an oil stain shimmering bright against calm waters at night. He curled like smoke, swirled against the jagged and uneven ground, seeping into cracks and crevices, instinct alone driving him up, higher, to where he had space to expand, to reform, to take the shape he remembered.

The smoke cut into lithe muscle, taut skin, powerful bone. Nanites surged, rebuild, relying on nothing more than the genetic code recorded inside their microscopic bodies. But they knew it well enough. They knew the shape of the corpse, and when the smoke receded he stood complete and whole as he had been.

Gabriel opened his eyes to the inky black of night around him, lit only by the ember glow of fires still burning in the wreckage of the empire he had built. His nostrils flared, the reek of decay and burning flesh filling his lungs.

Fear seized him, vertigo pitching him forward against concrete and rebar. Right before his eyes, he saw his body fade into nothingness, his limbs nothing more than clouds of darkness, barely visible against the night around him.

Panic flared against the back of his mind, sudden and fierce. The shape of a familiar name left his lips, choked back by a swell of black smoke and viscera.

No, that wasn't right.

The darkness curled over his skin, a searing bullet piercing the center of his chest. Out of nothingness, his body formed again. His boots landed heavy in the soot covering the ground. Smoke and shadow hardening against the palms of his hands, curved into wicked blades over the tips of his fingers.

He'd been left, abandoned. The legacy he'd built had crumbled, destroyed from within.

But they would pay, he thought with a sudden fervor. A dark pulsing heat curled about his chest like a lover's embrace. He felt it bubble in him with the slow, sticky pop of methane escaping tar pits, the sound hissing from twisted lips.

The names were still with him. Each name burned red like a brand against his soul, pouring fire into his veins, filling his mind with an unyielding rage. His dark, twisted voice pitched lower, louder, his shoulders shuddering as the laughter gripped his throat.

A plume of black curled from his lips, cloaking his face before taking form. One hand curled up, talons stroking slowly against the sharp edges of white bone.

They had killed Gabriel Reyes, crushed him beneath the weight of so much ambition. But the Reaper still lived, still breathed. There was nothing to stop him now, no sentiment, no pithy attempt at cowing to those who would stand in his way.

He would have his revenge.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm super excited that I got to participate in the R76 big bang again! Though just like last time Blizzard decided to release a new hero that messed with all my head canons. Ah well. I hope you liked the fic!
> 
> If you've liked the fic, please drop me a comment or tell your friends!
> 
> You can also drop me a message at [my tumblr](http://shibaface.tumblr.com/) too!


End file.
